


The One That You Are Looking For

by tabulaxrasa



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/pseuds/tabulaxrasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank gets silver poisoning. His pack protects him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One That You Are Looking For

**Author's Note:**

> Muchas, muchas gracias to my wonderful beta tuesdaysgone for helping me beat this into a shape which was fit to be read by other people. Title from "You're a Wolf" by Sea Wolf.
> 
> Written for the yobrothatssick challenge, prompt 46: Werewolf!Frank; silver poisoning.

It’s the way you can taste smells, that’s his favorite part, Frank decides. Or the running. The way he can run and run and run and never get tired, never get sore, never loose his breath. That’s his favorite part. Or no, _really_ his favorite part is running with his pack, his brothers, his family. Sometimes Gerard even lets him set the pace, just because Frank’s freaking adorable and Gerard’s that fond of him.

Tonight, Frank jumps on Mikey and nips Ray’s heels and bumps into Gerard until Gerard pounces on him and nips his ear to remind Frank who’s Alpha. It’s _great_. Frank bares his throat and Gerard lets Frank lick at his mouth and lets him up. Frank takes off running again, jumping over a log and threading through a close-set stand of trees just because he can. He feels the rest of his pack following. He’s tempted, for a few seconds, to wait and let Mikey catch up so they can run side-by-side, but some delicious smell comes his way on the wind and he _has_ to go find it.

Frank takes off, following his nose, everything else reduced to background information. His pack is still there, close enough to howl at, following along in a loose way, flowing through the forest around him.

There are lots of other smells under Frank’s nose all the time, but none of them intriguing enough to distract him, and lots of noises: rabbits darting away in a panic, an owl swooping overhead. Frank always has an urge to catch the rabbits, shake them, _bite_ , but he remembers enough to not do it. Not _why,_ exactly, only that he shouldn’t.

Frank follows the delicious smell through the woods, with singular focus, moving out of their usual territory. He doesn’t even really notice— it’s fine, it isn’t far. The only other wolves he’s ever smelled out here are his pack.

The smell is getting stronger, pulling him along like a siren, a tide, like the moon boiling his blood every month. He sends up a howl, just for the joy of it, to feel it pushing through his throat.

His pack answers, behind him somewhere, and with their voices in his ears he jumps a small stream. The smell is so strong now, promising something delicious and fulfilling and everything he wants ( _almost_ ). Frank runs through a thick stand of trees, and then there’s a soft explosion and the air is full of something, first reminding him of the time he’d crunched up a bird nest, and then, more and more, like he’s run into a snowbank.

It’s early fall though, and there’s no snow anywhere, and Frank sniffs to find out what it is. The shiny dust starts to settle on him, little hot touches, and then more and more, and it’s not the sting of snow or sand but fiery needles, hundreds of them, thousands, and Frank has no control over the noise that rips out of his throat.

He backs away, stumbling, but it’s too late, the stinging dust is everywhere. He tries to shake it off but it’s settled into his coat. His eyes sting and he shuts them but that traps the dust in there and it burns even more fiercely. He howls and whines and falls into the stream. That’s better, but now he feels it searing his nose, his throat. He tries to cough but the air feels like dragging claws across a burn, a burn _inside his throat_.

His pack crashes into the clearing around him. He almost can’t smell them or see them. Gerard is there now, though, trying to grab hold of Frank, teeth bared, hackles raised, looking to fight, looking for whatever has hurt Frank so he can kill it.

Frank backs away and Gerard lunges at him again. He doesn’t want to get the dust on Gerard, or Ray, or Mikey. Mikey is behind him, trying to herd him. Frank backs away from both Gerard and Mikey. He sees Ray, scouting the area, looking for the thing that hurt Frank. When he gets close to where the stinging dust came from, Frank yips a warning.

The pain is terrible in a way he’s not used to as a wolf. The change is something he associates with being a human, not the wonderful, reckless freedom of wolf. The pain makes him stagger, fall into the water again, but Ray is standing still, ears pricked, body tense, and he’s not going into the dust.

Frank lies down in the water and rolls around. It helps, at least on the outside, and he wishes the stream were deeper. Gerard approaches him, cautious, and sniffs Frank over carefully. Gerard growls, deep and furious, and Frank, through the haze of pain, still shivers with fear.

Frank can’t curl up like he wants to; it makes his chest burn too much. He twitches, in the water, and lets Gerard sniff him carefully. The last time Frank the wolf had been hurt, Gerard had licked his paw clean for him. There’s no wound to lick, this time. Frank will just lay here in the water and die. It’s fine.

Gerard, because he’s crazy, licks Frank’s ear, and then again. He licks the side of Frank’s muzzle, and Frank must have washed all the poison dust off his head because Gerard’s not pulling back or howling in pain.

With Gerard on one side and Mikey on the other, they try to nudge Frank upright. He can’t do it, though. Every time he tries to breathe too deeply or move too much the pain returns in a burning wave, and he gets dizzy and falls down.

For hours and hours Frank lies in the stream. He tries to drink a little water but his throat feels too swollen to swallow. Even breathing hurts. It’s getting harder to force air through, and it burns his lungs like it would if it was very cold. The whole time, one of his pack sits in the chilly water with him while the other two circle the area, waiting, watching.

Gerard makes no move to round anyone up and send them home, even when Frank can feel the moon loosening her grip on him. He feels the cold more, and he’s tired and weak. The change back to human is usually not as bad as the change to wolf but this one, tonight, he fears. He starts shaking and can’t stop, not even when all his pack huddle around him. If the change into a wolf is ripping and tearing and breaking, the change back into human is all popping joints back in and resetting and kind of like unclenching a muscle, except not like that at all.

It never takes them long, not like it does in the movies, where the change goes on and on. It only feels like forever. The pain is swooping up in a whirlpool tonight, pulling him this way and that, and Frank wants to scream but his throat burns and there isn’t enough air.

~~~

“What the FUCK,” Gerard shouted, first thing, because he’d been waiting to do that for hours. No one answered him. Ray leaned over Frank, moving him, and for a second Gerard wanted to snap at him— Frank was _his,_ his to touch, no one else’s— but that was just a lingering bit of wolf, and Gerard shook it out of his head.

Plus, Frank was kind of face down in the water, and Ray was turning him over so he didn’t drown.

“We have to get him out of this fucking stream,” Gerard said.

“He’ll be easier to wash now,” Mikey pointed out, voice heavy with exhaustion. “We should make sure it’s all off his skin.”

“I’ll do it,” Gerard said, unable to fight that urge right now. Ray and Mikey backed off respectfully, climbed out of the creek bed, and went over to the spot Frank had warned them about. “Careful,” Gerard called.

He scrubbed at Frank’s skin briskly in the flowing water. Something stung Gerard’s hand at one point and he shook it off quickly. He pulled Frank half into his lap and tilted his head back gently, letting Frank’s hair float in the water.

Gerard’s teeth were chattering, and Frank must have been even colder. He was still unconscious. Gerard wanted to cry.

“It’s silver dust,” Ray said, coming back to the bank. “He somehow walked into a cloud of silver dust.”

“It’s fucked up,” Mikey added.

 _“How...”_ Of all the... Of course Frank would do that. Of course it would be Frank.

“We should get him out of here,” Mikey said.

He and Ray climbed down and helped Gerard move Frank to dry land, or at least kind-of-muddy-but-not-actually-under-freezing-cold-water land. “We’re going to have to carry him back,” Gerard said, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.

“We’ll take turns,” Ray said.

Gerard carried Frank, of course, because he was Alpha and that was his job and _Frank was his_. He wasn’t, though, not Gerard’s, not really, not when they were humans. Gerard hoped that Frank didn’t mind too much that Gerard was nuzzling his head while he was passed out in Gerard’s arms. He was trying not to be creepy about it. Gerard wanted to throw up, he was that worried, so it wasn’t like he even had time to be too creepy.

He knew what Ray and Mikey were thinking, saw the glances they exchanged out of the corner of his eye, but he had no time for that now. Frank was unconscious and cold and _poisoned with silver._

It took forever to get back, forever and ever, and it seemed ridiculous that the sun wasn’t high in the sky when they finally crossed their own fence. It was still grey and dim, though. Gerard carried Frank right into the house and up the stairs, Mikey and Ray scurrying ahead to get Frank’s door open and his bed turned down.

Gerard set Frank down as gently as his shaking arms could manage. They pulled the blankets up. Ray and Mikey disappeared, and Gerard moved Frank’s damp hair off his forehead. Frank’s face was pale and chilled and his breath— it sounded like Frank was fighting for every breath. Gerard whimpered in sympathy.

Mikey came back and made Gerard put on clothes and wrapped him in a blanket. Ray came back with a hot water bottle that he tucked in with Frank, saying “I don’t think he’s so cold it’s dangerous to warm him up quickly.” He came back with coffee for everyone awake.

“Are we going to talk about why there was a cloud of silver dust in the woods?” Ray asked.

Gerard didn’t take his eyes off Frank. “It was a trap. For us. It had to be.”

“That smell...” Mikey said. “We should go back and see what it was.”

“My guess is a chemical pheromone of some sort,” Ray said.

“No,” Gerard snapped. “No one’s going back there. It was a _trap._ They’re trying to catch werewolves.” Sometimes that was a thing that happened, Gerard had heard. It didn’t happen too much, not anymore, but obviously someone knew they were here.

Frank took a deep, raspy breath, and something gurgled. Gerard froze in fear, mind whited out, until Frank took another breath.

Ray stood up. “I’m going into town,” he said. “To look for an epinephrine shot. It might help.”

“I’ll do some research,” Mikey said. “Put in a few calls, see who knows how to deal with silver poisoning.”

Gerard nodded. He was still sitting on the floor, draped in the blanket Mikey had wrapped around him. He should get up and do something, take charge, but he was afraid to move. If he wasn’t sitting here, watching Frank, Frank might stop breathing.

Someone out there had set a _werewolf trap._ And this someone knew they, Gerard’s pack, were there, because they’d set the trap right at the boundaries of their territory, and they were the only werewolves around for miles. And they’d hurt Frank.

Gerard scooted up a little, enough to fit his head on Frank’s pillow so he could whisper in his ear. Frank didn’t feel cold now, he felt hot, much too hot. Gerard sort of forgot what he was for a moment and licked Frank’s cheek. He tasted sweat and fear and pain and illness, and under all that some metallic taste that made him recoil.

There was a growl in his voice when he spoke to Frank. “I’ll find who did this to you and punish them,” he promised. “I will tear the world apart.”

 

Ray came back with two needles filled with epinephrine and stuck the first needle right in Frank’s neck. That was when Gerard had to leave the room so he could go throw up. Ray was just in time; Frank’s lips had started to acquire a distinct blueish cast. The other injection, Gerard heard, went in Frank’s chest.

They all waited for several tense moments until Frank’s breathing stopped making those rattling/wheezy noises. Frank’s tense muscles relaxed and his sleep became calmer and quiet. The wave of relief made Gerard dizzy and he let his head rest on the bed again.

“Gee,” Mikey touched his shoulder. “You should get some sleep.”

Gerard raised his head and shook it. “I’ll stay here,” he said. “It’s fine. You two get some rest.” He said it so they had to obey, and after a few seconds they did, shuffling out and shutting the door with the faintest of clicks.

 

“I’ve heard back from some people,” Mikey said, much later that afternoon. He and Ray had come back into Frank’s room with more coffee and sandwiches. Gerard had drunk his coffee and eaten his sandwich without tasting it. Frank still hadn’t woken up, and they were going to have to do something about getting him water soon.

“They said silver on the skin burns, right, but it seems we got all the silver dust off his skin. The problem is he must have inhaled it, and that’s why his throat swelled up. So it’s probably burned the inside of his throat, and nose and mouth, and maybe his stomach— and the best anyone can figure is to flush it out.”

Gerard nodded. “We have to make him drink.” He looked up, and saw Mikey and Ray exchange a look. “What?”

“It’s not just that he swallowed it, Gee,” Mikey said. “He inhaled it. So there’s probably silver dust in his lungs.”

Gerard’s heart started racing. “What does that mean?”

Mikey and Ray exchanged another look. If it hadn’t been Mikey, Gerard would have snapped at them. “No one really knows,” Mikey said, sounding apologetic and a little scared. “No one’s ever heard of a werewolf inhaling silver before.”

Gerard’s laugh wasn’t really a laugh. “Only Frank,” he groaned, face pressed to the bed and hands fisting in the duvet.

“Only Frank,” Ray agreed, his voice full of worry.

“Okay,” Gerard said, when he’d had a moment to pull himself together. “You guys can go out where the trap was but for fuck’s sake be careful. Make sure no one else is there before you get close, and if there _is_ someone else there... Just stay back, okay?”

They nodded, because they weren’t idiots and could figure this out for themselves, but Gerard needed to say it. And if there was someone there, they’d be tempted to attack him. Gerard was tempted to let them.

Before they left they helped Gerard give Frank some water. Ray propped Frank up while Gerard carefully poured water into Frank’s mouth, a little at a time. Frank seemed to swallow it okay, at least. Gerard wished they could go to a hospital, hook him up to an IV, but hospitals were the sort of place you didn’t go to once you were a werewolf.

Ray and Mikey left, and Gerard had three members of his pack to worry about. He wasn’t sure if he actually slept or if the shadows moved without him noticing. Frank just slept on and on. Gerard told himself that meant Frank was healing.

Gerard finally ventured downstairs, his legs shaking underneath him, for a smoke and to bring up more coffee for himself and water for Frank. He glanced out the window and saw Ray and Mikey coming across the yard, so he waited for them.

“No one was there,” Ray said. “And we couldn’t smell anything definitive, not like this.” He meant as humans. “Tomorrow I’ll try and look up who owns that land, and who might be new in the area.”

“You have to work,” Gerard said.

Ray shrugged. “I’ll do it after work.”

“Gee,” Mikey leaned against his side and took his coffee for himself. “Gee, you really need to get some sleep.”

Gerard shook his head, but Mikey talked over him. “You’re no good to _anyone_ like this, okay? What will we do if you get sick?” Mikey could play dirty when he wanted to. “You know Ray or I will sit with Frank the whole time. Come on.”

Ray was nodding earnestly, and an earnest Ray was very earnest indeed. And Gerard did feel woozy and it was hard to think and— “Fine,” he sighed.

Mikey drank his coffee and looked smug. Gerard trudged up the stairs, feeling like he had a concrete boot on each foot. He hesitated at the door to Frank’s room. He wanted to go in and curl up next to Frank but that was... Not something it was okay to do. Gerard walked the few feet to his own room.

He didn’t bother getting undressed, just collapsed on the bed and wrapped himself in a blanket. Of course, he was overtired, so it took about twenty minutes of his brain frantically whirring before Gerard could relax enough. And then sleep hit him like a truck and he didn’t wake until the next morning.

 

Gerard smelled blood as soon as he stepped into Frank’s room and was instantly on high alert. “What’s that?” he snarled. “What happened?”

Ray and Mikey were both in there, wide-eyed and submissive postures. “It’s just a little blood,” Ray said. “We think it’s the silver in his lungs. Maybe working its way out?”

“His lungs.” Gerard said. “Are bleeding?”

Ray and Mikey just stared at him.

“We’re taking him to the hospital,” he said, and then, raising his voice over Ray and Mikey’s objections, “I don’t care, I don’t _care!_ Anyone inhaling metal would be in trouble like this, right? It doesn’t matter—”

“They’ll find out,” Mikey said.

“I don’t care!” Gerard insisted, although he did.

“They’ll take him away, to study him,” Ray said, not quite meek.

“But he’ll be alive,” Gerard countered. He turned with a growl and started to pace. He wanted to rip things apart. He wanted to rip everything apart. It seemed the wolf hadn’t left like it usually did after the full moon. Instead of going back into hibernation for another month, it was still there, under the surface. Gerard’s pack was in danger, that was why, he realized. The wolf would stay until his pack was safe. The only problem was, Gerard had to behave like a human being, too.

He rubbed his hands across his face, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Is there coffee?” he asked.

“Duh,” Mikey said, and gave Gerard his own mug.

Gerard finished Mikey’s cup and looked at Frank. He couldn’t see any blood, just smell it. Ray took the mug and went to get Gerard a refill. Gerard leaned in close over Frank, examining him.

“He’s burning up,” he said, as quiet as if he was worried about waking Frank up.

“Yep,” Mikey said.

Gerard very gently pulled Frank’s mouth open. There wasn’t blood on Frank’s teeth, at least, not yet. He leaned a little closer. It did look like there were a few flakes of blood around Frank’s nose, but that could have been from inhaling the silver dust initially.

He wanted to curl around Frank and tend to him until he was better, and Gerard was furious that he couldn’t. _Just wake up,_ he thought, and let his thumb stroke Frank’s cheek a few times.

Then he remembered Mikey was in the room and snatched his hand away. “Gee,” Mikey said, and Gerard wanted to make him stop sounding like that; he couldn’t take it right now. His eyes and throat felt too warm.

“It’s okay, Gee. Everyone knows.”

Gerard flinched. “Everyone?”

“Well... I guess I mean me and Ray. Frank doesn’t...or he wouldn’t... I mean, it’s okay. We know he’s your—”

“Don’t,” Gerard said. He couldn’t hear that, not now, not like this.

“Okay,” Mikey said. He wrapped an arm around Gerard’s waist and molded himself along his back. He stayed there until Ray slipped back in the room with more coffee.

 

Ray and Mikey went to work and Gerard stayed with Frank. He sang to him, and told him stories, and poured water down his throat. Frank might as well have been a doll. The day seemed endless, but Gerard was still a little surprised when Mikey and Ray got home.

“We brought Gatorade,” Mikey said, lining up the jewel-toned bottles on Frank’s bedside table. “Better for him than water.”

Gerard studied the labels, trying to figure out the best one to give him. Performance and flavor... When did drinks get so complicated? He finally chose one that didn’t seem too gross and they got Frank to swallow some.

“Okay, so, I _did_ find something out,” Ray said. He was practically vibrating; he’d clearly been dying to tell them this whole time. Gerard curled up on the bed without touching Frank and did his best to give Ray his full attention.

“There’s a farm— or what used to be a farm— the other side of our woods. It’s been in the hands of the same family since the nineteenth century, but since the Forties it’s been pretty much vacant, buildings in ruins, all that. But three months ago the land was bought by a company called S. Martall.”

“A company?” Gerard shifted. “I don’t like the idea of a company being so close to us.” He didn’t want to move his pack, they were nicely settled here, but he would if he had to.

“I couldn’t find out anything about that company, which makes me think it’s a shell or a tax shelter or some kind of subsidiary like that. I’ll do more searching tomorrow. I don’t think they’ll be opening a big office building or anything over there.”

Gerard, deep in thought, smoothed Frank’s sweaty hair off his face. “Do you think these S. Martall people are responsible for the silver dust trap?”

Ray shrugged, both frustrated and helpless. “I don’t know. It would be easy enough for anyone to sneak onto that land, since no one lives there.”

Nothing about this was right, but Gerard didn’t know what to do. He wanted Frank to get better, first. Then he’d know what kind of revenge to exact, and against who.

 

The Gatorade seemed to help Frank, or maybe it was just all the rest. Either way, Frank had a little more color in his face, and his breathing no longer made any weird noises at all. Gerard could still smell blood, a little, but it was much fainter. The only thing they could do for him, with that silver dust in his lungs, was keep him comfortable and hydrated and hope his werewolf healing would take care of the rest.

It was late at night, so late it it was almost early, and Gerard was curled up on the bed next to Frank. His sketch pad was open in his lap and he was supposed to be working on a commission, but his hand felt too heavy to move. He was sitting in a daze, closer to asleep than awake, when something jolted him back to wide-awake.

It took a few confusing seconds before Gerard figured out what had woken him: Frank shifting on the bed next to him. Frank _moving._

“Frankie?” he shoved his sketchbook off his lap and rolled to his knees to lean over Frank. “Are you awake?”

Frank’s eyelashes were fluttering and he took a deep, irregular breath, which abruptly cut off. He started coughing, which he also tried to cut off, and sort of rolled around. Gerard reached out to hold him still— the pain was practically coming off him in waves. “Are you okay? Just hold still, Frankie, come on, don’t move. Frank.” He tried to hush Frank, and finally he held still, taking deep breaths through his nose.

He eased Frank back onto his back. “I’m so glad you’re awake, Frank. God. Don’t try and talk yet, okay, your throat’s pretty burned. Can I get you something? Is there anything you want? Water? We’ve been trying to give you Gatorade, is there—”

Frank was mouthing something, not trying to use his vocal chords at all. _“Bathroom.”_

“Oh!” Gerard said. “Right.” He helped Frank stand, which was slow and painful and Frank sort of reeled and slumped against Gerard when he got his feet on the floor. Gerard ended up dragging Frank down the hall more than helping him walk, and then pulled down the sweatpants they’d put on Frank after getting him back to the house. He helped Frank sit down on the toilet and then went outside and shut the door, giving Frank a little privacy. They’d all seen each other naked a lot— that came with being a werewolf— but helping someone take a piss was on a whole other level.

Gerard waited for what seemed like a decent amount of time, then knocked softly and eased the door back open. Frank looked like he was nodding off again. Gerard rushed over and helped him up, and then Frank insisted on washing his hands because he was a freak.

Gerard got him back to bed, Frank shaking and sweating, and made him drink a whole glass of Gatorade. Frank didn’t even make a face at it, just drank it in long, slow swallows. He almost fell asleep before he finished the glass, and he was out as soon as Gerard laid his head down.

He beamed happily, watching Frank sleep, feeling a little weak and woozy himself. Frank had woken up; Frank was getting better.

 

“So I found out a little more about S. Martall,” Ray said the next evening. Frank hadn’t woken up again but there was a festive feeling in the room. Ray and Mikey had brought home pizza, and they were scattered around Frank’s room to eat it. “It is some kind of shell company,” Ray said. “It’s mostly owned by a company called Mielke, which is...a pharmaceutical company.”

“Huh,” Mikey said.

Ray seemed disappointed by their lack of reaction. “That’s great, Ray,” Gerard said. “Good work.”

“But why would a big pharma company buy a ruined farm in the backwoods of Jersey, right?” Ray pressed.

“Right, okay,” Gerard responded.

“Well,” Ray looked less certain now. “I guess it depends on how paranoid you are.”

Gerard thought, very quickly, and didn’t like where he ended up. Ray had thought the smell that lured Frank into the trap was a chemical pheromone. He carefully set down his Red Bull. “You think they’re here for _us?_ ”

Mikey went very still, and Ray shrugged. “I don’t know. But I can think of lots of reasons a pharmaceutical might want to get their hands on werewolves.”

“Jesus _fuck,_ ”Gerard said. After a moment, he wondered how they could have found them.

“I don’t know that either,” Ray said, sighing. “Maybe they found that we all always took time off around the full moon?” None of them, though, worked in offices or big chain stores that would record that kind of information and compile it somewhere.

“Maybe we’re so off the grid we’re actually suspicious,” Gerard sighed, and tugged at his hair because that helped him think.

“Does that mean we can get internet here now?” Mikey and Ray both perked up.

Gerard smirked at them. “We’ll see. I’m...not too sure we can stay here.” They looked about as unhappy about that as Gerard felt, but they both looked at Frank and nodded.

Mikey and Ray didn’t come right out and ask what they were going to do about S. Martall or Mielke or whoever the fuck their new neighbor was who might be trying to hurt them, but Gerard knew they were thinking about it. They had to be.

Gerard had to go into town himself the next day, for work-related errands. It was his fastest trip to the art store ever, but it still wasn’t fast enough: when he got home, he found that Frank had woken up in his absence. Mikey had stayed with him today, and assured Gerard about a hundred times that Frank hadn’t seemed to be in too much pain— Mikey had acquired some Norco through means Gerard didn’t want to ask about, and Frank had taken a pill with his Gatorade.

“He was awake for like five minutes Gee, really. You didn’t miss anything.”

Gerard felt like he _had_ missed something, though, a big something, and spent the rest of the day in Frank’s room, brooding.

 

It took him another day to make up his mind, but once Gerard had set a plan, he acted on it quickly. He talked to Ray first. “I want to go scope out that site myself,” he said. “And I want to take a look around the farm next door.”

Ray nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Gerard put a hand on Ray’s arm. “Thank you,” he said.

Mikey would be harder.

“No way,” Mikey said, arms folded and his most unimpressed face on.

“Some one needs to stay here with Frank,” Gerard said. “And I need to go check it out for myself.”

“Then I’ll go with you,” Mikey said. “And Ray can stay with Frank.” Mikey was _challenging_ him.

“No,” Gerard said, and he used his Alpha Voice, which was cheating but he didn’t care. “You’re staying here.” He put an arm over Mikey’s shoulders and said, in his normal voice, “I just want to keep you safe, Mikey.”

“And who will keep you safe?” Mikey grumbled, but he was backing down, because he had to.

 _“Ray,”_ Gerard said. “You trust Ray, right?” Mikey couldn’t outright disagree with that, so he just gave Gerard a grumpy look. Gerard kissed the side of Mikey’s head and let go. “We’ll be really careful, I promise.”

Mikey’s _you better_ was communicated using just his eyebrows, but Gerard heard it loud and clear.

 

The waning moon was still bright enough for them to see by, since they had better night vision than humans, but not so bright it would give them away right away. It was strange to be out in the woods at night as a human, or at all as a human, really.

He and Ray walked side-by-side, or as close as they could get, because normally Gerard walked in front but he wasn’t as sure of the way as Ray. Ray had no trouble finding the spot, and once they were there, Gerard recognized the stream where they’d found Frank and shuddered.

“Here’s where the trap was.” Ray pointed out the trees, and Gerard leaned over and sniffed carefully. A trace of whatever that delicious smell was was still there, but the horrible metallic smell of silver overlaid everything, making Gerard’s skin crawl.

Gerard did his best to investigate carefully and thoroughly anyway. “It smells like...Thanksgiving.”

Ray nodded. “Something like that, yeah. Crazy, right?”

Gerard shivered, and put his hands in his coat pockets, hunched his shoulders. “I want to see the farm.”

They carefully walked around the stand of trees with the trap, and on the other side, they smelled it. They both froze on instinct and looked around, but then Gerard realized the smell was several days old.

“Someone was here,” he said, and Ray nodded.

“You were right. They did come to check the trap. We must have just missed him.”

Gerard bristled at that, anxious all over again. “We’ll just have to, you know, be ninjas.”

They didn’t follow the strange man smell back, exactly, because their sense of smell was good but not week-old-tracking-through-the-woods good. Ray had a satellite map of the area he’d printed out, and they used it to make their way toward the farm. It would have been hard to miss.

The ruined farmhouse sat in the middle of still-clear land. Around the house the weeds had grown high, but further down the yard the grass was shorter. A sleek-looking trailer sat in the short grass near the driveway.

“That trailer’s not on the map,” Ray frowned and used a flashlight to peer at the print out.

“So that means it’s recent, right?”

They watched the trailer for a while, but no lights were on, and there were no cars that they could see. They made a long circle around the trailer so they could see it from all sides. Everything seemed dark and quiet and deserted.

“I think we should go in,” Gerard said. Ray looked at him, and Gerard could feel his worry. “We’re already here,” Gerard pointed out. He knew he was feeling wild and reckless and the wolf inside wanted to tear apart the ones who had hurt Frank and threatened his pack. “We might as well.”

Ray must have sensed something, or maybe it was just that he felt the same way. “Gerard,” he whispered. “What if they know? What if it’s another trap.”

“We’re humans,” Gerard said. “We can be more careful.” And then he took off across the grass, in a full-out run, something to assuage the raging wolf, leaving Ray to run after.

Nothing happened all the way across the yard. The trailer had metal stairs up to its door, and Gerard stood by them and listened for a long while. He went up the stairs and examined the door. He knew Ray was most worried about another silver trap, and so was he, but surely throwing a lot of silver dust around would get messy. And it’s not like it had captured them a werewolf they last time they tried it.

The door was locked, of course, but a little prefab trailer wasn’t much of a match for two werewolves. Working together, they ripped the door off its hinges, then jumped back.

When there was no shower of silver, Gerard carefully stepped into the dark trailer. He didn’t need the lights. There was some lab equipment, and some computers, and locked cabinets and other things Gerard didn’t recognize.

He allowed Ray to come in now, since everything was still quiet and silver-free. Ray went to poke at the computers, but they demanded a password. “Can you hack them?” Gerard asked.

Ray rolled his eyes. “I’m impressed you think I’m so l33t,” he said. “But no.”

Gerard sniffed and broke into a file cabinet instead. It wasn’t that helpful, it just contained long rolls of paper that proved to be survey maps of the area.

“Oh look,” Ray said, reading over Gerard’s shoulder. He pointed at an area circled in red pen. “That’s where the silver trap was.”

Gerard growled. “So they did do it.” He crumpled the map in his hands, then ripped it.

“What do you want to do?” Ray asked, controlled but alert.

“I want to blow them up,” Gerard said.

“Okay,” Ray said. “What do you want to do that we can actually do?”

Gerard pouted, a little, but it’s not like he had any explosives on him, or knew how to make any, other than maybe a Molotov cocktail. “Well, let’s trash the place,” he said. “Make it look like backwoods hicks broke in or something.”

Ray seemed amenable to that, so they swept the counters clear, sending glass to the floor with a loud smash, and tipped over the filing cabinet and basically threw whatever they could. It was actually pretty soothing.

When they’d more or less ruined everything they could, Gerard said “I wish we’d brought gasoline or something. We could burn it down.”

“We could burn our woods down,” Ray pointed out. “Besides, arson’s a lot more suspicious.”

Gerard supposed he was right. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Gerard actually felt better about a lot of things as they ran back through the forest. They knew who was responsible for hurting Frank and they’d started taking measures to stop them. They just had to think of how to make the company clear the fuck out. Gerard was happy to be going home to Frank and Mikey.

He bounded up the stairs and found Mikey sitting in a chair by Frank’s bed. Frank was awake, and propped up slightly on a pillow, and _awake._ “Frankie,” Gerard breathed, and flew across the room. He managed to avoid jumping on the bed and Frank blinked at him in a slow, deliberate way.

“He can’t really talk,” Mikey said. “But we got this.” He waved a small spiral-bound notebook and a pen. He stood up and slipped past Gerard, letting Gerard take his seat in the chair next to the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Gerard asked.

Frank flipped the notebook until he found a certain page, then passed it to Gerard. _Throat burns,_ it read, in a messier scrawl than Frank usually wrote in. _Lungs hurt, hurts to breathe, skin feels tight, HEADACHE._

“I guess Mikey already asked you that,” Gerard said, keeping his voice quiet now that he knew Frank had a headache on top of everything else.

“I already gave him a bunch of pills and stuff,” Mikey said.

“Great,” Gerard said wryly. ‘Pills and stuff’, very reassuring.

Mikey, who knew what Gerard meant, smacked him on the shoulder.

Frank was looking at him, and it was weird. Not that Frank never looked at him or anything, but...the way he was looking was weird. Gerard crossed his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow. Frank just looked back at him steadily. See? Weird.

“So what did you guys do?”Mikey asked. Gerard, with some help from Ray, recapped their evening. Frank had to be brought up to speed on what had happened to him, too. By the end Frank was drooping, and Gerard shooed Ray and Mikey out of the room, although they had to stop and pet Frank before they would leave.

Gerard closed the door behind them with a sigh, but when he turned around to face Frank again, he realized maybe Frank didn’t want or need him to stay all night now. Frank had slumped back down in the bed and shut his eyes, but as Gerard stood by the door being awkward, he opened them again.

“So,” Gerard said, and just managed to stop himself putting his hands in his pockets, “do you need anything?”

Frank shook his head, just a little. Gerard should leave. He should definitely leave, and let Frank sleep. He didn’t move.

After another long moment that Gerard spent being anxious, Frank reached for his notebook and pen and wrote something. Gerard crossed the room to read it.

 _Gonna stand there all nite?_

“Go to sleep,” Gerard said.

 _Can’t with you staring at me_

“Fine,” Gerard huffed, to cover his embarrassment. “If you need anything..?” he bit his lip. How was that going to work, actually?

Frank rolled his eyes and wrote something else _Sleep here duh_

“Oh,” Gerard flushed a little. “Right. Sure. If you don’t mind?”

 _Bed already smells like you_

That had to be Frank being deliberately provocative. It had to be. But without tone it was hard to tell how he meant it. Gerard looked for Frank’s expression, but Frank just looked exhausted. It made Gerard guilty. He gently pulled the pad and pen away from Frank and set them on the nightstand.

“Of course,” he said. “Go to sleep. I’m just going to hit the bathroom.”

Frank made the tiniest motion of his head, the barest suggestion of a nod, and closed his eyes. Gerard went to his room first, to change into pajamas, then went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth, deep in thought but not worried. He went back to Frank’s room and turned out the lamp. Frank was maybe asleep, but he stirred a little as Gerard crawled into bed next to him.

 

He kept all the curtains pulled the next day, feeling paranoid about retaliation for trashing the trailer, but no one came and went except Mikey and Ray. Frank still slept a lot, but he ate a little vegetable broth with rice. He still felt warm to the touch but not as hot as before. They set up a space heater in the room to keep Frank warm, and Gerard moved his work into Frank’s room. He actually got some work done, now that he didn’t have to worry quite so much about Frank, but whenever Frank was awake Gerard curled up next to him and entertained him until he fell asleep again.

Frank got steadily better for about a week. His temperature got back to normal, he spent more time awake, and consumed food that was more like real food, or at least Frank’s version of real food. Gerard got less work done, since he spent more time curled up with Frank on the bed, reading to him or sharing comics or watching movies on Ray’s laptop.

Frank could rasp words now without too much pain. Gerard still slept in his bed at night, though. He wasn’t leaving until Frank kicked him out. So when Frank started coughing one night, it woke Gerard up. Frank was struggling to get upright. Gerard hurried to help extricate Frank from the blankets and sit him up. Frank curled over himself, coughing over the side of the bed.

Gerard didn’t know what to do, and finally settled for gently rubbing Frank’s back. It seemed to go on for a long time, and Frank was wheezing between coughs before the fit died down. “Are you okay?” Gerard asked.

Frank drank some water and wiped at his eyes before sliding down and rolling onto his back. “Ow,” he whispered.

Gerard whimpered in sympathy and ran his hand across Frank’s forehead. He felt sweaty and clammy. Frank shifted and rolled onto Gerard’s chest. Gerard wrapped an arm around him and settled the blankets up to their chins. Frank snuffled and nuzzled Gerard’s collar bone. Some part inside Gerard was singing a triumphant refrain of _Mine! Mine! Mine!_ Gerard pretended it was the wolf, and told it to shut up.

 

The coughing got worse. Frank was wheezing between fits, and his burned throat was raw again. He stopped trying to talk because every time he did, he coughed. He looked waxy and wan, and it was almost as bad as the fever.

They wrapped him up in scarves and hats and fed him mint tea and they even bought a humidifier to see if it helped. He was going through cough syrup at an alarming rate; any relief it brought never seemed to last for long. Frank had to lay very still, propped up at just the right angle, and take shallow breaths. He obviously hated it; the frustration was written all over his face. Frank’s lungs had always been fragile, and now they’d been riddled with silver, and there was no end to the unproductive cough. Frank had a headache and he occasionally coughed so hard he threw up.

One evening Mikey was sitting with Frank while Gerard took a break in the kitchen with Ray. He didn’t think he really needed it, but Mikey and Ray had insisted. “He’s going to get pneumonia,” Ray said unhappily.

Gerard sighed and put his head down on the table. Now that Frank was coughing all night, Gerard wasn’t getting any sleep either.

“And...I haven’t told him yet, and I don’t know if we should, I’ll leave it up to you, but...they’re gonna fire him if Frank can’t come into work soon.”

Gerard cursed, for a while. Frank’s boss was an asshole, but it was hard to find jobs that let you work around the full moon. “Well, we’ll manage. And we’re definitely not telling him until he’s better. Fuck,” Gerard sighed and drained his coffee cup. “Hell, we might not even be staying here, right?”

Ray shrugged. “I’ve been checking the police blotter section in the newspaper and nothing’s been mentioned about vandalism or anything that would be the trailer, as far as I can tell.”

“Thanks for checking,” Gerard said. He’d basically put it aside, having been pretty much consumed with Frank the past couple weeks.

 

A couple days later, when Gerard was painting and Frank napping, a car pulled into the driveway. They had a long driveway off the main road, and no lost drivers had ever made it all the way to the house before turning around. It was hours before Mikey and Ray were due back.

Gerard put his things down and slipped out of Frank’s room. He went into Mikey’s room because his and Ray’s rooms faced the front of the house. Gerard stood by the side of the window and peeked around the curtain.

A silver four door sedan with Jersey plates was parked in front. The engine was still running, and it looked like the driver was alone. Maybe he was lost.

Gerard didn’t move, just watched him, until Frank started coughing. Gerard went back into Frank’s room.

“Someone’s here,” he said, voice quiet, as if the person out front might hear.

Frank looked up him, face pinched and worried. “Who?” he gasped during a break in the coughing.

“Dunno,” Gerard said. “Stay here, I’ll be back.” He went back into Mikey’s room. The car, and the man in the car, were still out front.

Gerard considered for a few more minutes. Maybe the person was lost. But why was he still sitting there? The alpha in him wanted to challenge this interloper. Strangers didn’t belong on his pack’s territory.

Gerard finally popped back in on Frank, just to give him the phone. He took advantage of Frank’s coughing to get away without answering questions. Gerard went downstairs, moving silently out of instinct. He went into the kitchen and watched out the window for a while.

After it had been at least twenty minutes of the car sitting out front, Gerard couldn’t stand it anymore. He went to the front door and opened it. When he stepped out on the porch, the car roared to life and turned around, driving back down the driveway, out of sight.

 

“All I saw was the guy was white and maybe bald or receding hairline. I don’t know what the fuck it was.” Gerard was at the kitchen table with Mikey. Ray leaned against the counter.

They exchanged grave, uneasy looks. “It’s got to be something to do with Mielke, right?” Ray sighed. “They know where we live.”

“They already knew that,” Mikey pointed out. “That’s why they set the trap.”

“So what the fuck is the creepy stalking thing about?” Gerard asked, but of course no one had answers for him.

“We should stay here tomorrow,” Mikey said. “You shouldn’t be here alone with Frank.”

Gerard bristled. “I can take care of Frank!”

“I know, Gee.” Mikey immediately, and visibly, backed down. Gerard shook himself a little. He shouldn’t snap at Mikey.

“Sorry, Mikes.”

“It’s okay,” Mikey smiled.

There was a large, loud thump from the stairs.

“Frank!”

Ray was standing near the door, but Gerard still almost beat him to the stairs. Frank was halfway down, collapsed in a coughing fit.

“Frankie!” Ray said, dismayed. Between Ray and Mikey, they got him to his feet and back into bed.

“What the hell were you doing?” Gerard asked, as soon as Frank was tucked back in bed.

Around his coughing, Frank glared at him. “You’re leav...ing me...out,” Frank wheezed when he could get a breath. “Tell me...what’s...”

“Okay, okay,” Mikey said. “Don’t kill yourself.”

“You’re sick,” Gerard said. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

Frank glared at him.

“We’ll take care of it, Frank,” Gerard scowled. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Just...tell me...are we...in trouble?” He wasn’t coughing anymore, but he didn’t have his breath back, yet.

Ray and Mikey looked to Gerard. “There’s nothing to worry about,” he said.

Frank looked as furious as Gerard had expected him to. “This is about that car—” another coughing fit overtook him. Gerard couldn’t stop his wince.

“Frankie,” he started, but Frank turned away.

Mikey and Ray stiffened. Gerard decided to ignore it. Frank was sick. “Get some rest, Frank,” he said.

Gerard went to bed in his own room that night. Ray had taken Frank his supper and sat with him for a while in the evening. Gerard felt off, like something was out of place inside him. Fighting with Frank felt wrong, it always did. Too bad Frank was such a little shit.

Gerard wasn’t really mad at him much anymore. He didn’t want Frank getting up and trying to walk up and down the stairs, but Frank had already been confined to bed for _weeks_ and that had to be boring as hell. Not to mention the rest of his pack was obviously stressed out about something. Maybe Gerard should have kept Frank better informed, but every time Frank coughed Gerard could feel something like tearing in his own chest.

Sometime around four Gerard woke up and heard Frank coughing. He reached out for him but his hand met only cold air and cold bed; he realized he wasn’t in Frank’s room. Gerard was barely awake and couldn’t understand why he was so far away from Frank.

So he got up and shuffled into Frank’s room. “Mmmkay?” he mumbled.

Frank was too busy gasping for breath to answer. Gerard crawled onto the bed and rubbed Frank’s back. Frank leaned into his hand. He drank some water and there was a tiny whimper.

“Come on?” Gerard whispered. He adjusted Frank’s pillows and helped him lay down. Frank grabbed his hand and tugged, and Gerard gratefully crawled under the blankets next to him.

 

It had been nearly a month. Frank’s wracking cough still lingered, keeping him bed and exhausted. “What if it doesn’t go away?” Frank whispered one night. There were tears on his face. Gerard wiped them away.

“We’ll figure something out,” he promised. “This can’t go on forever.” He had no ideas, though, except maybe they’d have to go to a doctor after all. With all this starting with a drug company, Gerard felt more leery than ever of hospitals and doctors, but it was clear Frank couldn’t go on like this.

 

The day before Full Moon Day, Frank was even twitcher than normal, and he passed it on to Gerard. Gerard did his best not to snap at Frank, even though his instinct was to make him stay in one place.

Well, all right. Maybe his instinct was to pin Frank to the bed and rub all over him.

He was staring stupidly at the commission he was working on— he could never get any work done right before the full moon— when he heard a car come down the drive. He checked the clock. It was a little early for Ray and Mikey, but not too much.

Still, he thought maybe he’d give up on painting until after the moon. He closed up his paints and washed his brushes in the bathroom sink (Frank was too sick to notice, ha!).

He felt itchy, and he almost chalked it up to pre-moon jitters. But then he noticed it had been rather a long time since the car pulled in, and he hadn’t heard Ray and Mikey. And he didn’t feel them. He felt...odd. Twitchy.

Gerard went into Mikey’s room and looked out the window. Ray’s truck wasn’t there. The silver sedan was. And it was empty.

Gerard rushed across the hall. Frank took one look at him and tried to get up.

“STAY,” Gerard said. Frank froze and fixed his eyes on Gerard’s face. When Gerard used that tone, Frank would do anything. “The car’s back,” he whispered. “I don’t know where the driver is. _Do not leave this room._ Got it?”

He waited for Frank’s nod and shut the door behind him. He wished he could lock Frank in, lock him away somewhere safe.

Gerard walked to the top of the stairs and looked down. The front door was just closing.

The man who stood there was white, and had a shaved head, but Gerard was surprised to see he was their own age. He’d be taller than Gerard if they were on equal footing, and was bulkier. But he was human.

And also _in Gerard’s house._

He smiled up at Gerard. “You’re a werewolf,” he said. “Are you the one I hit? Or is that one still sick?”

Gerard bared his teeth. Not consciously. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“You trashed my lab,” the guy pointed out. “I’m here to collect my samples.”

The hair on the back of Gerard’s neck stood up. He took two deep breaths. The wolf was right there, and it was furious.

“Oh now, see, you broke into our house,” Gerard said, tone as civil as he could manage. “That means we can pretty much do anything we want to you and no one will convict us.”

“And this hypothetical jury,” the man said. “Think they’ll accept ‘werewolf’?”

Gerard growled. If he could change at will, his teeth would already be ripping out this man’s jugular. “Think they’ll accept ‘werewolf’ for why you’re breaking into my house?”

The man laughed. “You think we need anything other than money to convince a jury?”

Gerard took a few steps down the stairs. “Now that we know we’re all criminals...”

The man took something out of his coat— a revolver— and pointed it at Gerard. Gerard scoffed.

The man laughed, an ugly sound. “Do you know how hard it is to get silver bullets? Pretty hard. But not impossible.”

Gerard froze.

“I only need one of you alive,” the man said. “And I guess the sick one will do for that. I’m gonna be so fucking rich.”

Two things happened then: one of them was that Gerard saw Mikey and Ray walking across the lawn. The other was that the sun finished setting.

He called to Mikey and Ray— not that they were telepathic or anything, but they generally knew where the others were, and it couldn’t hurt. Then Gerard grinned, as wide as he could. The man did a double take. It made Gerard laugh. His teeth probably looked a lot sharper than they had a minute before.

Ray and Mikey were going around the side, to come in through the kitchen. Good boys.

The safety was still on the gun, Gerard was pretty sure, so he took another couple steps down the stairs. The man focused his attention on Gerard again, so Ray and Mikey slipped in unnoticed.

“You’re stupid,” Gerard said, taking another step down. “And you didn’t do your research.”

“Stop right there! What that does mean?”

Gerard stopped walking down the stairs, but all his muscles were tensing, and not because he was scared. “Did you even look up in the sky today?”

“The full moon’s not ‘til tomorrow,” the man said, like it was a prayer that could keep him safe. See? Stupid.

Ray and Mikey were moving around without making a sound, as smoothly as if they’d all rehearsed this.

“The moon’s pretty much full for two nights,” Gerard said. The low burr in his voice wasn’t a purr, but it was a bit more satisfied than a growl. “The second night, we’re forced to change. The first night, we don’t have to. But we can change if we want.”

Gerard only took one second to savor the look on the man’s face before he called the wolf up, forcing the change.

~~~

The first thing he smells is _stranger,_ a stranger in his territory, his home. He can smell his brothers, behind the man on either side. He can smell Frank, too, upstairs weak and scared, and that makes Gerard growl. Frank belongs at his side, not sick and not scared.

Gerard doesn’t remember right away who the stranger is, but he doesn’t belong in his territory. Then his other self, the weaker daylight one, pushes the memory into his head: the stranger is the one who hurt Frank. He’s here to hurt Gerard’s pack and take his mate from him.

Well. He can try.

The man’s pointing a gun at Gerard, but he’s terrified, and then Ray growls, and the man startles and points the gun at Ray, and then Mikey growls and the man swings around to point the gun at Mikey.

That is not a thing Gerard likes.

He launches at the man, knocking him down. The gun goes skittering away, taking all its bad smells with it.

They’re not supposed to be wolves in the house— Gerard remembers that quite clearly, but usually it’s because werewolves want to tear. Tonight, there’s something else to tear.

The man slams his elbow into Gerard’s throat and it’s hard enough to make him flinch. It stings, and for a second he can’t breathe. The man scrambles out from under Gerard and runs for the door.

Gerard shakes his head. Ray and Mikey howl, and Gerard takes a second to sniff out Frank’s distress. He’s safe here, though, so Gerard howls too and sprints out the door, Ray and Mikey on his heels. He’s not worried about catching the man. This is their territory and he’s only a human.

Gerard takes point because he’s Alpha. He’s biggest and strongest and fastest, and right now he’s maddest, too. Hunting is _good_ ; this is what they’re made for, chasing prey in the moonlight.

 

Gerard returns to the house later, on his own. He crawls up the stairs, unaccustomed to how tired and sore he is. He follows his nose, or some other sense, and it takes him where he’s meant to be.

He pushes open the door to the place where Frank is. Frank sits up, and coughs. “Gerard?” he asks, when he can.

Gerard moves over to the side of the bed and sets his head on the bed by Frank. Frank smells like sweat, and mint, and illness, and still a little like fear, but not much of silver anymore. He nudges his nose against Frank’s arm.

Frank puts his hand on Gerard’s head, lightly at first, and then he pets him a little more, and skritches him behind the ears. Gerard’s tail thumps against the floor happily.

“I can’t believe you changed without me,” Frank says. His voice is hoarse.

Gerard’s not good at being apart from Frank, so he crawls up on the bed.

“Oh!” Frank says, surprised, even though Gerard’s careful not to step anywhere that would hurt him.

He settles on his side of the bed, closer than the foolish human he is most of the time would allow himself to get. He doesn’t understand that when he’s a wolf. It’s all perfectly clear to him.

“What have you been up to, hmm?” Frank says in his raspy voice. He looks worried. “What have you done?”

Gerard looks at him, because there’s no way to reassure him, not when they’re separate things like this. He _almost_ wants to roll over and let Frank rub his belly, but even if Frank is his mate, Gerard’s still Alpha, so he doesn’t. Instead, Gerard lays his head down, pressed close to Frank’s side. Frank has nothing to worry about now; Gerard has protected him.

After a moment Frank lies down too and his hand finds its way back to Gerard’s head. He gives Gerard another scratch behind the ears, until Gerard’s tail is thumping on the bed. Gerard licks Frank’s arm in thanks. Frank’s fingers curl in the thick fur of Gerard’s ruff.

Gerard likes this. He likes Frank as a wolf better, because then they can curl up in a tight ball together, and it’s not so hard to communicate, when they’re both wolves. Humans are harder to read than wolves.

But Gerard’s with his mate, and everyone’s safe, and that’s what counts.

~~~

Gerard slept right up to the start of the change, and then he rolled and fell off the bed so his thrashing didn’t hurt Frank. After a few moments that felt much longer, he was panting on the floor, back to human.

“Gerard?” Frank croaked. “You okay?”

Gerard waved a hand above the bed as proof of life. Gerard had never, never had a hangover this terrible. Everything ached, and his head was full of a cacophony of pile drivers and bright knives. The change hadn’t made him feel this bad since puberty.

And oh God, did he crawl in here last night and cuddle up to Frank as a wolf? Jesus. No self-control. After a few more panted breaths, Gerard painstakingly pushed himself to a sitting position. Then he had to spend a few more minutes leaning up against the bed and trying not to throw up.

“Still with me?” Frank asked.

“Barely,” Gerard croaked. He sounded wrecked. Well, he felt wrecked.

Frank rustled in the bed and a tattooed hand appeared over Gerard’s head, holding a glass of water. Gerard took it and drained it, leaving the glass on the floor. Gerard pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around himself before he even thought about standing up. Frank had seen him without clothes before, of course, but right now Gerard felt naked.

His legs were shaky when he stood up but they held. Frank was looking at him, and he was so full of questions Gerard could see them from miles off. “I’m gonna go...clean up,” he said. “Make sure Mikey and Ray made it back. Or...you know.”

Frank nodded and leaned back against his pillows. He was staring at Gerard again. Gerard pulled the blanket around himself more closely and shuffled out of the room.

Mikey, in true Mikey Way form, showed up just when the coffee finished brewing. Ray was with him, so those were two less things to worry about. None of them spoke. Mikey and Ray hung around just long enough to get coffee, and then they headed upstairs.

Gerard took his cup and went upstairs too. He stood outside Frank’s door for a long while. He was tempted to just go to his own bed, for basically the first time ever. But Frank must know he was there— it was full moon day, after all.

Oh God, tonight was going to suck.

That thought was enough to prompt Gerard through Frank’s door.

“Tonight’s gonna suck,” Frank said when he saw him, and Gerard smirked.

He didn’t crawl into bed, even though he was tired and sore and really just wanted to be pressed up against Frank, surrounded by his smell.

“Did you eat him?” Frank’s tone was more polite curiosity than anything else. But there was a line of tension in it. Well, of course there was.

Gerard rubbed a hand through his hair. His memories were confusing and bloody. Really, really a lot of blood. “Not...as such,” he said. He was pretty confident about that. “No, we didn’t _eat_ him, per se.”

Frank leaned back against his pillows. “Do we have to worry about a body?”

“No,” Gerard. “I shouldn’t think so, no.”

Frank reached for his water, then remembered Gerard had drank it all. Gerard, enormously relieved to have something to do, grabbed the glass. He went back down to the kitchen and got Frank water and himself a coffee refill.

“So you guys tore him into tiny pieces, huh?” Frank asked. Gerard startled and water splashed over his hand as he handed the glass to Frank. Frank smirked a little.

“Are you feeling better?” Gerard asked. “You seem like you’re feeling better.”

“I haven’t been coughing that much,” Frank said. “I think it’s the moon. Maybe...” He trailed off, but Gerard knew what he was thinking. Maybe he’d wake up better after the moon. It wasn’t unheard of.

Gerard rubbed his eyes. They felt gritty, and hot and itchy. He was too tired to think, and his head was still throbbing to some diabolical beat.

“Are you gonna come back to bed?” Frank asked.

Gerard decided not to think about that too much either. He just shuffled around to his side. It smelled like himself, like wolf, and Gerard’s senses reminded him again it was Full Moon Day.

He set his mug on the table and collapsed onto the bed. He shuffled around to get under the covers— he probably looked like a beached whale or something, but he was in just enough pain that he didn’t care. Well, he cared, but not enough to do anything about it.

“Come ‘ere,” Frank said, tugging at Gerard and making him move closer. “I need you to prop me up so I don’t cough.” Gerard let Frank arrange him however he liked, and then Frank was laying half on top of him and pushing his face into Gerard’s neck.

Gerard was only still conscious because of the caffeine, so he just flailed inside his head.

“So,” Frank said. His voice was low, suitable to falling asleep, and Gerard could feel Frank’s breath warm against his skin. “Are we gonna...talk, or whatever, about this sometime?”

“Mmh?” Gerard said. “The...the fight thing? The man, I mean?”

“Oh,” Frank said. “I guess.” But that wasn’t what he’d meant. “I was thinking more the thing where you sleep in my bed and basically peed in a circle around me and bit me so everyone would know I’m yours.”

“Oh,” Gerard said. “That.” Biting Frank sounded like a pretty good idea. Gerard wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. “Mine,” he said, tightening his hands where they were on Frank, until they released as he relaxed into sleep.

“Yeah,” Frank whispered in his dream, “that’s what I thought.”

 

They all slept late into the day. Ray made a huge amount of pancakes and bacon (and facon) and they all gathered in Frank’s room to eat.

“Maybe you should load up on painkillers before sunset, Frank,” Ray said thoughtfully.

“Maybe we should all load up on painkillers before sunset,” Mikey snorted.

Gerard smiled at them. They were all more or less pretending last night hadn’t happened, but it hovered over them anyway. It probably would for a long time. But Gerard had kept his pack safe. That was what mattered.

When it was time to get ready, Gerard stood up. Everyone stopped talking and stood up as well. Usually they just undressed in the house and went outside naked or wrapped in blankets, depending on the temperature, but tonight they made Frank put a robe on. Gerard and Mikey helped Frank down the stairs, going slow.

Outside it was clear and getting chilly. They all sniffed the air. No smells to make them worry.

~~~

Changing two nights in a row is no fun at all. His bones protest more than usual, feeling extra-fragile, and the agony piles on, new sharp pain over duller, deeper aches. It takes Gerard longer than usual to regain his breath, his balance, his senses.

They don’t run, that night. Frank is ill, shaking, weak, and so his pack gathers around him instead, curling in a large, tight ball of wolf. Gerard settles his head over Frank’s neck, keeping him safe and warm, and all together, they wait for the dawn.

~~~

“Hey, hey,” Frank said. He rubbed his face against Gerard’s, stubble rasping together. “Hi.” Gerard could hear his smile.

He hugged Frank tight. It was cold and damp out, although the ground they’d been lying on was still a little warm. He rubbed his face against Frank’s. “Frankie. How are you? How do you feel?”

Frank was wiggling against him. “So much better. Gee, so much better! I can breathe! Listen!” He took a deep breath and let it out, and it only shook a little.

Gerard squeaked, happy, and squeezed Frank. Wow, they were totally naked and rolling around on the ground.

“Uh,” Mikey groaned. “This is the worst I’ve ever felt in my life, and now you guys are making out. Fuck.”

“Seriously,” Ray said. “I’m really glad you’re feeling better, Frank, but get a room.”

Frank giggled, and he sounded so happy Gerard didn’t care about how awful he felt. Actually, he didn’t even feel that awful any more.

He nipped Frank’s jaw, at the angle, and Frank’s breath caught and he went still. Gerard nipped Frank’s jaw again, and then his chin, and then he rolled him onto his back and bit Frank’s neck. _Mine._

Frank sighed, tipped his head back, and arched against Gerard.

Gerard pulled his arm free from where it was pinned between Frank and the ground, and used his hand to catch Frank’s head. And then he kissed Frank, on the mouth, at last at last at last. Frank kissed back, hungry, his fingers wrapping themselves in Gerard’s hair.

“I am going to get the hose,” Ray warned.

Gerard and Frank both started laughing, and then Frank started coughing.

“Fuck, I’m an asshole,” Gerard said. “It’s freezing out here.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Mikey sounded inappropriately morose. “God, this is going to be every month for the rest of our lives, isn’t it?”

Frank had just enough breath to wheeze “Yep!”

All Gerard’s aches came rushing back when he stood up and pulled Frank with him. But they didn’t seem as bad as before. Mikey, with his head averted, handed Frank his robe. It was cold and kind of damp but better than nothing. Gerard wrapped it around Frank— _his_ Frank, his _mate_ — and hustled him inside.

“Bed,” Frank said, nudging Gerard toward the stairs.

“Don’t kill him,” Mikey said.

“No sex until you can speak in complete sentences without coughing,” Gerard said.

Frank whined and then did a very bad job of suppressing a cough. “Fuck. Fine. We can still make out, right?”

“Well,” Gerard said, “obviously.”


End file.
